


defamatory statements

by oddishly



Series: studying for the bar: a how not-to [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25216300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddishly/pseuds/oddishly
Summary: Arthur knows the importance of his own reputation.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: studying for the bar: a how not-to [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843879
Comments: 18
Kudos: 120





	defamatory statements

**Author's Note:**

> **defamation** : a statement concerning Plaintiff, made by Defendant to a third person, that is harmful to Plaintiff's reputation. If statement involves a matter of public concern or a public figure, falsity and fault may be required.

Short on sleep and rather sore from the previous day’s activities, Arthur would have quite liked to be breakfasting in his own chambers instead of with the king. Still, paternal expectation was a hell of a thing. And Merlin had to be feeling just as rotten too, and _he_ wasn’t sitting at an abundant breakfast table but serving it.

Arthur sat up straighter as Uther took a seat at the head of the table, and managed a cheery, “Good morning, Father,” and “Yes, very sunny,” and “Training this morning, of course—” 

He thought he was doing rather well up until the point that Uther leaned back in his chair and tossed a couple of peeled grapes in his mouth and said in a friendly sort of way, “And what’s this I hear about you entertaining guests in your chambers last night?”

Arthur’s stomach turned over. “Guests?” He raised his eyebrows at Uther with what he hoped was an inquisitive sort of air, then took a very healthy bite of sausage to give himself time and said around it, “Last night?” 

Uther looked at him calmly. “Yes, Arthur. Guests.” He lowered his fork and looked at Arthur. “Last night.”

Arthur nodded, trying to finish his bite. “Hmm?”

“It must have been quite the celebration." Uther twirled the fork around his plate. “The servants tell me they heard the ruckus for a number of hours.” 

Arthur chewed faster. He now regretted the sausage. “Mmm—”

“Because of course, you couldn’t possibly have been alone in your rooms entertaining a lady,” Uther continued. “Knowing how important your reputation is to the future of the kingdom, you wouldn’t take that risk—” 

Arthur grabbed the cup of water Merlin thrust at him and gulped it down, hoping in the back of his mind that he didn’t end up wearing it. “Ah yes. The knights,” he managed eventually. “Until all hours.”

“Really,” said Uther. “They were there all night, were they?” 

“Much of it,” said Arthur, taking another measured sip of water. “We needed to work on our, ah—"

“Sword practice?” said Uther casually.

“Exactly,” Arthur managed, only choking a little as Merlin pounded—that is to say, hammered—on his back. “We certainly didn’t intend to disturb anyone.”

“I see. And when you said—” He procured a scroll from his cloak, unrolled and consulted it. “Harder, I can take it, that’s an order." Uther looked over the scroll at Arthur. “That was of course referring to ….?”

“An _ansetzen_ ,” Arthur croaked. "New technique."

“Indeed.” Uther placed the scroll back in his pocket. “So you maintain that you didn’t spend your evening in the company of some noisy and irreputable floozy in your chambers?” He narrowed his eyes at Arthur. “It was your knights only? No one can say otherwise?”

“Precisely,” said Arthur, all evidence to the contrary buried deep at the bottom of a laundry basket that Merlin would be dealing with very quickly if he knew what was good for him. “Just a ... a hearty thrashing that was a long time coming.”

Uther stared at him. Then he looked over Arthur’s shoulder at Merlin.

Merlin swallowed audibly. “I can vouch for that,” he said. He sounded more nervous and unconvincing than Arthur would have liked, although Arthur didn’t dare look at him.

“Well,” Uther said, and started in on a slice of toast. That seemed to be that. 

Arthur resumed eating, rather more at ease, and was considering giving Merlin a furtive look when Uther cleared his throat and picked up like there hadn’t been five minutes of peace. “Regardless,” he said. “Let us imagine for a moment that such a rumour was making its way around the citadel. Just for amusement’s sake.”

“I don’t know why it would, though, Father, and as I explained to you—”

“Well, suppose a rumour about the crown prince was making its way around Camelot." Uther smiled genially over his tub of grapes. “A rumour that may require me to secure a replacement for after I am gone.” 

Arthur adjusted his collar. It was quite hot in here. It was spring, and the skylights let in a fair bit of sunlight at this hour.

He hazarded a glance Merlin’s way in time to catch sight of Merlin twitching a finger at his neck, almost imperceptibly. Arthur made a belated attempt at covering up the mark on his own neck with his palm. “Truly, I wouldn’t dream of putting my reputation at risk in such a way—or, er, letting anyone believe that I had done any such thing.”

Uther stood, shoving his chair behind him with a screech, and paced to the other side of the room. “I’m glad to hear that you are so careful,” he said, “because even if it’s not true, if you _weren’t_ careful—anyone who thinks there’s a chance it could be true is susceptible to believing in its truth. This is not mere name-calling, Arthur, this is a serious accusation that may result in the entire kingdom losing faith in you, its future ruler.”

Arthur blinked rapidly. “The entire—Father, this rumour. Surely it can’t have gone beyond the citadel.”

“Let us hope not,” said Uther. “For it would endanger the very foundation of the kingdom if even one person had heard of it. By the gods, when I think of the people who could have spread this information—even through sheer negligence—we will need to locate and punish the lot of them.”

“The lot of them?” Arthur said, thinking of his father’s punishments. “Don’t you think that’s a little … excessive? We don’t even know if it’s going to do any harm yet. Just because it sounds a bit bad.”

“We don’t have time to deal with that,” said Uther. “We need to get ahead of this if we are to protect the reputation of the kingdom, and your rule in particular.”

“My—my rule?” said Arthur, trying to keep up. “Father, is this really necessary? I’m not a woman. The question of my, er, my chastity—” he avoided Merlin’s gaze—"isn’t going to result in my bearing any illegitimate children. And I haven’t contracted some sort of loathsome disease. If it were to be true. Which it is not. Of course.” 

He glanced at Merlin, who stepped forward and helpfully said, “The knights,” and stepped straight back.

Uther ignored this. “No,” he said. “Your extra-marital affair would lead to nothing more than a serious question as to your suitability to reign. Not to mention,” he said, casting a rather doleful look Arthur’s way, “your ability to _make_ laws as a law _breaker_ guilty of _moral turpitude_.”

“Father, really—don’t be ridiculous. No one talks that way anymore. The people—or, er, person—who shares my bed—in the future, hypothetically I mean—doesn’t have the slightest impact on my ability to rule—”

“You think tales of your exploits in your chambers aren’t going to make it beyond Camelot’s borders? Because I have some news for you, my boy—"

“Yes, well, leading with the heart is hardly something to hang a man for, is it,” said Arthur, who had yet to recover from his own experience of those exploits in his chambers. “And the markets will bounce back soon enough.”

There came a hammering at the door—thankfully, as Arthur was talking himself into a corner and on very few hours of sleep.

“Sire,” said one of the guards from the hallway. “A missive from Northumbria.” 

“What has that fool done now?” Uther snarled, and whirled to meet the man at the door for a secret conference. 

Arthur twisted at once in his chair to narrow his eyes accusingly at Merlin.

“What?” Merlin whispered from behind a tray of meats. 

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“I could say a lot,” said Merlin. He looked impressively unconcerned. “It’s a good thing everyone was at the carnival last night, you know. What with how you were carrying on.”

“Careful—"

“Well how was I to know you’d be so willing to let me—”

“ _Mer_ lin—”

“That you’d be so enthusiastic?” amended Merlin. He raised his eyebrows over the tray he must only still be holding as an excuse to remain in the room. Honestly, he hadn’t even refilled Arthur’s glass once. “To be fair, Arthur, he’s not wrong. You were asking for it.” Arthur grimaced but Merlin continued as he always did. “All night. It’s true, you know.”

Arthur shut his eyes against the memory, because he had, indeed, been asking for it. Actually, begging was likely the better word. Loudly, with indeed a great deal of enthusiasm, because Merlin had some … unexpected skill. Which was frankly surprising considering Merlin’s usual lackadaisical approach to service.

“Shut _up_ ,” he whispered in reply. “Do you really want my father to _find a replacement_? To let those servants tell the whole court what they heard?”

“Not really,” said Merlin, and gave the tablecloth a hearty sort of tug which further wrinkled it. “Only the people who need to know, really. Like me. I suppose if it became a matter of state I could—”

Arthur gaped. “ _Why_ would it become a matter of state?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes these things happen,” said Merlin. He shrugged. “And there’s an interest in encouraging candour.”

Arthur took a deep breath before replying. “I’ve been with you all morning but somehow it seems you’ve been drinking. Encouraging candour? What does that mean?”

“Who you invite to your bed is a matter of public interest,” said Merlin with honest eyebrows fooling no one. “And the servants obviously didn’t make anything up, I can attest to that myself—”

“Would you?” Arthur hissed, glancing over his shoulder at his father.

“Of course not,” Merlin said, earnest and completely ridiculous with his tray of meats, which made it rather embarrassing that Arthur was so completely ready to push him up against the wall and let the smoked and honeyed pheasant fall to the ground, “the point is that it wasn’t untrue. And no one who reported anything to the king was speaking with actual malice.”

“So?”

“So you can’t let anyone be punished for it!” Merlin said. He picked up a water cup and balanced it atop his tray, giving Arthur a stern and, Arthur thought, nearly disappointed look. “I won’t stand for that, Arthur.”

“What kind of person do you take me for?” Arthur glanced again at Uther, who was now drawing what Arthur could only imagine were detailed battle plans on the walls for the guards after such a long conversation. He turned back. “The servants aren’t politicians, I know perfectly well what my father would do if they tried to make this sort of thing public—anyway,” he said, giving himself a shake. “Merlin. You don’t seriously think I would try to get anyone in trouble for what is essentially _your_ fault.”

“ _My_ \--”

“If you had warned me beforehand that you were so practiced at—”

“ _You’re_ the one who couldn’t keep the noise down—” Merlin was slowly turning the colour of a tomato. 

They stared at each other. Arthur badly wanted to vanish them back to his rooms without an instant’s delay.

“Arthur,” said his father suddenly from across the room. “I am afraid I’m needed. You will resolve this issue before our next meeting.” 

He whirled away, doors slamming in his wake.

The room was suddenly very quiet, with only the faint sounds of the courtyard far below. Arthur suddenly realised that he and Merlin were standing very close, listening together as Uther’s steps disappeared down the hall. They were abruptly alone.

Arthur looked from the doors and back to Merlin. “So …”

“Do you think anyone is listening?” Merlin said at last. 

“I hope not, for your sake,” said Arthur. “Because if you think for one second that I’m so stupid as to give anyone in this castle more gossip—”

Merlin glanced very visibly from door to window and then placed his tray down onto the flagstones. Then, to Arthur’s surprise, he smirked and put his hand flat on Arthur’s chest, walking him back against the table. “Better keep the noise down, then, hadn’t you.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Defamatory Statements](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29529531) by [TheOccasionalMishap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOccasionalMishap/pseuds/TheOccasionalMishap)




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